


Champions of Errant Ones

by ademordna



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Action, Angst, But only occasionally, Gen, Secret Identities, Super Villains, Superheroes, superhero au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-18 04:46:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11284005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ademordna/pseuds/ademordna
Summary: Superheroes are old school. Zarkon, the most powerful super villain to ever live, wiped out the last real one fifty years ago, and has since then spread his influence world wide. Whispers say he's planning on the next step in his plans - but they also claim that something is rising. Something that will stop ZarkonBtw, this is multi chapter





	Champions of Errant Ones

This base was different than the others.

It wasn't a logical thing - the patterns of the sentries were still the same; the general layout, the colors and shape and people inside it were the same. But something surreal occupied the air, leaving Keith with the growing weight of dread in the pit of his stomach.

Something was different. Something was just wrong here, but Keith just tried his best to ignore it.

He had already made it past the perimeter of the base. It seemed that after so long, the Galra have gotten lazy regarding their defenses, which allowed for Keith to easily slip past the sentries once he learned their patterns. It was another similarity that he hung on to as he trudged through the dark courtyard and towards the main building of the base, a massive, unwelcoming grey thing in its center.

Despite knowing he was hidden by the night’s darkness, Keith kept his knife in his hand - a reassurance, if nothing else. He clutched it tightly, his knuckles white as he slipped into a corner to wait for someone to enter the building. He counted the seconds as a purple-clad man appeared and entered, and Keith stealthily slipped inside the doors after him.

He had become a bit of a master at muffling his own footsteps, so it was no surprise when the man didn't notice Keith until his knife was at his throat.

“Take me to the records room,” Keith whispered. He could feel the man's swallow through the blade. “Now.”

The man shuffled forward, too slow. He didn't have time for too slow. He shoved the man slightly, and he began walking faster, but still stiffly. Keith’s knife was set at the small of the man’s back, a silent reminder not to stop.

They didn't encounter anyone else on their way to the records room. Perhaps the man was smart enough to avoid people, or perhaps it was pure luck. Keith couldn’t care less either way. He had his mind set on one thing; how he got it didn't matter to him at all.

Keith let the knife drop to his side, although it remained in his hand. The man stood frozen, staring at Keith with the pathetic face of a puppy facing a snarling, angry wolf. Keith kept his face stagnant as he reached down into himself, towards that ever-present heat inside of him. He glanced to the closed door of the records room, now hidden behind a wall of flame. The man slowly followed Keith’s gaze, letting out a shaky, broken breath as he beheld the fire. The room was too small for the man to truly try anything, and now he was stuck here.

Keith felt confident in turning his back to the man to face the large computer that made up an entire wall of the small room. He didn't know much about computers, just bits and pieces he'd learned from his father years ago, but he'd learned enough about the ones at the bases to understand the basics. Keith grabbed the man’s hand and placed it on the dais. Instantly, it glowed, and Keith was granted access. The frightened man simply went back to his staring. It was strange that he wasn't doing anything - no shouts, no words of protest - in fact, no words at all. Keith wouldn't be surprised if the man was mute, though he highly doubted it. The man was yet another strange thing about this place. He felt the dread in his stomach grow heavier, so he pushed the thought to the back of his mind.

After a few seconds, he located what he was looking for: the prisoner files. Surprisingly, there were only four. Usually Keith was faced with the files of hundreds and hundreds of prisoners, each different, making it nearly impossible for him to find what he wanted.

Until now. Because right there, the first listing on the screen, was the face of Takashi Shirogane. Keith’s eyes went wide. Did that mean Shiro was currently there, or that he had been there? Keith clicked on the file. The picture of Shiro in a prisoner’s uniform took up most of the page. To the right of it were a few small paragraphs of text, including Shiro’s serial number but not his name, among a few other unimportant things that Keith couldn't quite identify. He scrolled down, and found something about Shiro’s whereabouts. According to the page, Shiro had been held in this very base until yesterday.

Keith cursed loudly. He'd been on Shiro’s trail for months, and to be so close, yet so far...it was frustrating. He read on.

Prisoner 117-9875 was successful. Transferred to G.Garrison-1 as of June 17th…

...which was yesterday. But the Garrison - Keith nearly laughed. It wasn't too far from here, he could probably reach it in several days. As for whatever “succesful” meant, he didn't know. It didn't matter, Keith was so close. He closed out of the program, leaving the computer at the blank screen it had been at when he entered the room.

Suddenly, red lights began flashing, and a loud alarm blared. He glanced at the screen again. In large red letters, flashing in time with the lights, it read INTRUDER ALERT. ROOM 112.

Keith could only assume that's where he was now. He glanced behind him. The fire at the doorframe was gone, and so was the man. He cursed again. The man must've slipped out and warned the rest of the base - how could he have been so stupid? He should've known his fire wouldn't be enough to hold the man back. He should've knocked him out, or tied him up, or something.

He should've at least not completely ignored him.

It didn't matter, he had already gotten what he needed, which was more information about Shiro than he had ever had before. He'd broken into and out of plenty of bases, how hard could this be?

Sure, now there was the added challenge of everyone in there being after him...but no, it'd be fine. Keith clutched his knife, taking it out of the slit on his belt. He hoisted up the bandanna that covered his mouth and nose, and walked out of the records room.

And came face to face with about five guards running towards him, all with purple armor. The guards were blocking the only way he knew how to get out, behind him was a maze of hallways.

Keith stepped forward, towards the guards. He swung his knife sideways, weaving a huge arc of flame in its path from wall to wall. The guards stepped back, startled, breaking formation and forming a hole wide enough for Keith to slip through. He smiled under his bandanna and sprinted forward through the hole, pushing the guards next to it aside in swaths of fire.

Keith made a sharp left, reaching out with his power to search for any other guards. He detected the body heat of the guards behind him, but no others when he came to an intersection. If he remembered correctly, the man had lead Keith out of the right pathway. He took off one of his shoes and threw it down the left pathway, then bounded down the right.

He didn't encounter any more guards until he approached the entrance to the building. The whole lot of them, it seemed, had accumulated at the silver doors that Keith had came in through. His eyes hardened. He summoned fire, the flames reaching out for the guards, but they weren't fazed. He feigned running directly at them, then quickly made a run for the left, only to crash right into more guards. They grabbed his arms, and Keith thrashed, flames bursting everywhere. The guards held him firm, but Keith didn't stop struggling as they cuffed him and brought his bandana up so it covered his eyes.

They led him down several hallways, and Keith lost track of the amount of times they turned. He tried melting the cuffs off of his hands, but they seemed to be fire resistant. He tried setting the guards on fire, but their clothing wouldn't catch, and something about them seemed fire resistant. The pit of dread in his stomach grew heavier. He would've set himself on fire if it weren't for his clothes, would've set the entire building on fire if it weren't for the fact that he probably would've suffocated.

There was the sound of a door creaking open and slamming shut, and the guards finally stopped walking. Keith grunted as they shoved him to his knees. He could sense them stepping back.

He could also sense that there was someone else in the room, someone who was walking toward him.

“Ma’am, we've captured the intruder,” said one of the guards.

The room was silence except for the clicking of shoes against hard tile.

“You must be the rat that's been causing us trouble recently,” the woman in front of him growled, “I've been dying,” she yanked down Keith’s bandanna, “to see you.”

The woman was smiling maniacally. Her eyes were ridden with a strange spark that Keith could only describe as madness. Her hair was stark white, long and curly. She had tan skin, scarred in several places. Below her black eyes was a scratch that was bleeding, though she didn't appear to care.

“Well,” she turned her back to him and picked up an orange tablet that had been perched on the table behind her, then faced him again with a hand on her waist. “Let me see...broke out of the Garrison. Nearly destroyed ten Galra bases, getting away every single time until you finally got caught at this one.”

She giggled. “It was only a matter of time, anyway. No one - and I mean no one - screws with us and gets away alive,” she placed a finger under his chin, digging her sharp fingernails into his neck. “You've been quite annoying, scurrying around and digging through things that aren't yours like the rat you are.”

“At least I'm not a murderer,” Keith said. “At least I don't imprison people for no reason.”

“You know nothing of the Galra cause, rat,” she said softly, no less sting in her voice. “If it were up to me, you'd be lying on the floor, dead. But it's not, so I won’t do anything because I'm apart of something bigger than just me,” she stared at him, twitching. “Do you know what it's like to be more than just a thorn in our side? We're changing the world. You…people like you should be grateful.”

Keith spat at her feet. She glanced down with her eyes, raising her chin a bit higher. Then, without lifting her gaze from the spit on the floor, she said, “get rid of him.”

Keith felt a sharp pain in his head, and then everything went dark.

• • •

When he woke up, Keith wasn't in that room anymore. He wasn't even sure if he was still in the same Galra base, though there was no doubt that he was in the Galra’s possession.

He was lying down on some cold, hard surface - metal. When he finally opened his eyes, he found himself squinting up at a bright light on the ceiling. His eyes adjusted, and he could make out a bare white ceiling, meeting identical walls. He couldn't see much past that.

He tried to get up, only to find that he was strapped to the metal surface. He couldn't move his hands or feet, nothing would budge. Even his head was bound in place. He was also gagged, he noted. He tried burning away the bindings, but they wouldn't catch, wouldn't show any strain at all. He closed his eyes and sensed for any people in his proximity, but something felt...muffled, as if something was blocking his power.

Great. He was immobile and powerless, with no idea where he was. Keith looked around with his eyes, since he couldn't even move his head from side to side. There was only one thing remotely interesting in the room: a camera, white like everything else, nestled in the middle of the corner between the wall with the door and the wall to his left. He could barely make out the small, blinking red light that told him it was recording.

Keith still couldn't sense people anywhere near him, and the block that seemed to be placed on his power wasn't letting up. There was no doubt that the Galra were watching him. Wherever they were, it couldn't be too far - they were probably in the building in the fear that he'd try something.

Since there was no conceivable thing he could do, he decided to stare down the camera. They'd know he was awake by now, maybe someone would show up. Someone would have to show up sooner or later.

As the seconds blurred into minutes, and Keith ran through what he saw of the last base he went to. He couldn't shake the fact that everything about it was normal, except for the strange feeling it had about it. He tried to recall anything strange that he saw that wasn't just a feeling, but couldn't think of anything. The sense of dread was still present in the pit of his stomach, though it was more faded and felt different than what he had experienced at the base.

What could the Galra possibly be doing there? The base itself was in a strange location - the middle of a forest whose name was forgotten. Most bases were in urban areas, meant to strike fear in the hearts of the people living there. Meant to serve as a reminder of who the Galra were and what they'd done.

Unless...it was top secret. Unless whatever the Galra did there, whatever they did to Shiro and the other three prisoners, wasn't meant to be a reminder. The report on Shiro ran through his mind: Prisoner 117-9875 was successful.

Successful how? What had they done to Shiro? He was still alive, he was at the Garrison, but why would they send him there?

The Garrison was meant for people like Keith. People with powers. The Garrison is where they sent the ones they didn't kill. But Shiro...he didn't have powers. The Garrison had some of the best defenses of any Galra base, but Keith hadn't seen any prisoners without powers in his time there. Although, it had been a while since he'd been to the place, so perhaps things had changed.

Keith hated the idea of going back, but he'd do it for Shiro. He knew that it'd be harder to get in and out, but he had no choice. It would be the first place he'd go once he got out of wherever he was.

That was when he heard something, someone. Several someones. Keith could hear their footsteps cutting through the silence that had previously only been broken only by his breaths.

The door glowed at the edges, sliding open quietly. In the doorframe were three individuals - purple clad Galra guards. A part of Keith was ready to try to set them aflame - despite whatever was afflicting him - when the one in the middle took off his helmet.

“Hi, Keith,” said the blue-eyed boy with short brown hair, “we’re breaking out of this place. And you're coming with us.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks!


End file.
